A Life Unlived
by QuidditchNut
Summary: The daughter of Hyrule's King was fated for greatness. Can she discover the greatest of them all - the place her heart truly lies - before she is betrothed to another?
1. The King's Plan

So, that was it. The hammer had finally fallen. Her father wanted her to marry politically, and he was not to be argued with.  
  
She shook with a righteous anger, a fury welling up within her, even as she strode with an outward calm back to her chambers. All the injustices she had ever felt inflicted on her gender were flitting across her mind now as a lightning fast picture book, doing nothing to ease the scream of frustration threatening to erupt from her diaphragm.  
  
The servants who hurried past, preparing for the evening's festivities saw nothing amiss with the heir to the throne of Hyrule, aside from a jawline held perhaps more firmly than usual. Zelda kept her inner turmoil on a tight rein – a credit to her excellent tutelage in the art of royal behaviour over the years, particularly from her guardian, Impa. The necessary diplomatic skills required of a monarch also required a watertight external appearance; no weaknesses, under any circumstances. As a result, few could tell what thoughts lay behind those deceptively innocence blue eyes, unless Zelda chose to tell them.  
  
As she swept back towards her rooms on the east wing of the castle, she focused on relaxing her shoulders, keeping her strides easy and expression perfectly neutral. As this had become second nature to her several years ago, her mind was mostly free to concentrate on the tight knot of anger balling in her stomach. How could her father do this? How could he spring this on her...and forbidding anyone else to inform her this princeling was visiting, tonight. He had informed her (standing firmly on much pomp and ceremony, as he was wont to do when nervous) that this Prince Idiot was her husband-to-be, and it was a done deal in all but officialdom. He was to propose to her during his month long stay, she would accept – here Zelda had interrupted her father's rehearsed little spiel.  
  
"– And I will be receiving a neat little bundle of wheat stooks as my wedding gift, I suppose?" she had spat out angrily.  
  
"What? Zelda, you understand as well as I do that – "the King had tried, looking less certain of himself by the second.  
  
"What I understand is that Terabith has had a prodigious wheat harvest this year, which is only equalled by their notoriety for refusing to accept a term of trade with any of it's neighbours. What I fail to understand however, is why you now think me a simpleton. You have never done so before." At this, Zelda paused her furious pacing of father's elegant, wood- panelled study, and turned at him with an almost hurt expression. Heaving a sigh, the King rose from his desk and crossed the room to the small window overlooking the castle courtyard.  
  
"This isn't particularly pleasant for me either Zelda. The Goddesses know, the last thing I wish is to send you from my company. Your mother would never...." The King trailed off. He turned to Zelda. Even through her fury, she saw how very weary he seemed.  
  
"I do not think you a simpleton, child. So I know you understand my position, though you claim not. You know how Ganondorf ravaged our crops. We have little chance of providing even the barest of provisions for our peoples this year." He expelled another drawn-out sigh. "Though it pains me, I am afraid the time has come for last measures."  
  
Zelda resumed her pacing, refusing to be placated. "What of the Zoras? Will they not assist us in our hour of need? Or Ganondorf caught all the fish as well, I take it?"  
  
The King closed his eyes, and a bite of impatience was detectable in his tone as he answered. "The Zoras will not clear out their lakes and rivers for us, Zelda, as you know full well. I cannot ask them for this; it was not in the terms of our peace treaty – "  
  
"I will not be condemned to marriage over the sake of a peace treaty!" Zelda all but shouted, a slight note of desperation shaking her voice. "You do not even attempt to save me from this...this imprisonment."  
  
"Zelda! Enough! Do not speak to me as though this were something I enjoy!" The King said angrily, as he strode back to his desk. "The Crown Prince of Terabith will not accept our trade agreement under any other terms than the marriage of his son to an heir of the Realm. There is no other way, Zelda!"  
  
Zelda saw the steel set to her father eyes, coupled perhaps with the smallest degree of pleading. She felt as though she had plunged into icy water, and her stomach dropped with a sickening lurch. He truly intended to marry her off for the sake of politics. True, she knew quite well the desperate situation Hyrule was suffering in the wake of Ganondorf's atrocities. Perhaps...a part of her understood. But he had promised her, he had promised she would never be a pretty bystander when it came to leading their country. He swore he would never underestimate her judgement again, not since...well, since Link. They would rule jointly, conferring on all matters, letting her determine her own fate as opposed to countless other female royals before her. And this, ambushing her, guilting her, forcing her to marry some man she had never seen....well, he had broken that promise. She was still just a pawn, to be tossed about and cast off at the convenience of her elders. Like every other princess in history.  
  
Zelda rose to her feet, and her righteous anger flickered back to life. Trembling now, she said in a tight, low voice, "There is always another way. This is simply the easiest, is it not, my liege?" She knew the official address would hurt and insult him, and she didn't care.  
  
"Goddesses be damned, Zelda, Hyrule will starve!" But she was already gone, the heavy oak door whispering quietly closed behind her. The King slumped back in his exquisitely tooled leather chair, head in his hands.  
  
Zelda pushed open the door that led into the hallway adjacient to her chambers. She forced herself to politely acknowledge with a smile an advisor to her father who was striding down the corridor in the opposite direction. The musty smell of his court robes was overwhelming as he swept past with a pompous nod, and she resisted the urge to break into a run. Finally, she pushed open the door to her suite with perhaps a little more haste than intended, but controlled herself enough to shut the door instead of letting it slam. Alone at last, she shrugged off all pretence and ran to her bed, fell face down into the pillows, and yelled as hard and loud as she could. She yelled again and again, muffled by the pillow, until her throat was raw. It wasn't until she stopped and tasted salt on her tongue did she notice the tears streaming down her face. She curled up around the pillow hugged to her chest, and began to cry in earnest.  
  
It seemed hours until she ostensibly exhausted her supply of tears. She no longer felt angry, just drained and weak. Zelda climbed slowly off her magnificent, velvet canopied bed, and crossed the room to the washstand in a corner. The maids had left fresh linen towels there this morning, as well as a pitcher of both cold and warm water. She carefully washed her face, and critically examined herself in the polished glass which lay on a stand nearby. Apart from being slightly bloodshot, her eyes were as normal, as well as the rest of her face.  
  
She carried the glass over to her window seat, and arranged the plush cushions around herself. Lowering the glass to her lap, she exhaled deeply, and then lifted it again to eye level. Examining her reflection, she attempted to view herself impartially, like a stranger. She had never been particularly concerned by appearance, and had been rather infamous amongst her attendants as a child for being completely averted to anything with frills – which, unfortunately, constituted most of the royal wardrobe.  
  
How would this prince find her? She knew she was nice-looking – beautiful, some would say. Her hair was a lovely warm golden, falling in long waves today. Her skin was smooth, with only a smattering of faded freckles across the nose, remnants of a childhood spent primarily out of doors. Elegant brows and long lashes, both gifts from her mother. Eyes – a deep blue, very youthful in appearance. She knew more than one unsuspecting victim of those innocent eyes. Now, she could see the tiny lines framing them, and the last traces of puffiness still lingering from her crying bout.  
  
Zelda lowered the glass with a trembly sigh, and inwardly berated herself. This was not characteristic for her. Mooning over reflections, thinking depressive thoughts. She should not have to resign herself or her freedom so easily!  
  
Even now, in her heart of hearts, a tiny voice told her it was no use. There really was no other way to feed the populace she cared for so deeply. She stared out the window at the river flowing past, heart leaden.  
  
A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. One last glance in the glass shining in her lap confirmed that she was now returned to normal. "Enter", she called, voice clear.  
  
A tall, striking woman entered, iron-grey hair pulled severely back into a knot at the base of her neck. Her simple navy robes adorned only with strange traditional symbols, hung loosely off her frame, disguising a powerful physique. Though a muscular woman, her footsteps were feather light, undetectable to all but the keenest ear. There was a knowing, penetrating look in her gaze as she appraised her charge of the last nineteen years. "You've been crying." She stated without preamble.  
  
Zelda offered her attendant a weak smile, and turned back towards the view of the river. The Sheikah woman known as Impa joined her on the luxurious velvet seat, folding her long frame into a cross-legged position opposite the princess. She calmly templed her hands in front of her face, and regarded Zelda silently for a few moments. Seemingly reaching a conclusion, she lowered them to her lap.  
  
"So, you are aware then."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"Of the King's plans for you and the princeling of Terabith."  
  
"You knew?" Zelda exclaimed, aghast. Impa tutted dismissively.  
  
"Of course I didn't, you silly child. I was just informed not five minutes hence in an announcement given to the general staff. No one knew." Impa said, with a note of frustration creeping into her normally melodious voice. "It seems then, that the King's plans are final."  
  
Zelda nodded morosely.  
  
"And you are not overjoyed with the prospect, if the tears are an indication." Impa stated. Zelda threw her a reproachful look.  
  
"Do you even have to ask? I thought you knew me better than that." She knew she was speaking like a sulky child, but she was still too miserable and tired to attempt better.  
  
"I do know you better than that. I know that you know the crisis we find ourselves unwilling upon the brink of. I also know that you realise there is no other way to resolve it save a blessing from the Goddesses themselves, and this may be a burden you must force yourself to bear on behalf of Hyrule."  
  
Zelda felt her ire rising again. It was quick to flare recently. "So I take you defend my father's opinion then? I should be bought and sold like common chattel to the highest bidder?" She rose quickly from the seat, hands clenched at her sides. "Well, I won't! I won't throw away my freedom so cheaply! They can't make me!" Zelda all but shouted the last words, her lovely face red with temper. She cursed inwardly as she felt those damnable tears threatening to rise again. "Why do you take his side, Impa? I see now that he only thinks of me as a diplomatic bargaining chip....how he always thought of me." She turned her back to Impa and furiously blinked away a few traitorous beads of water which had welled in the corners of her eyes. "And you too, you feel that a princess is only fit for a profitable marriage, as he does? I – "  
  
"Zelda, stop it. You are working yourself into a state, and that helps no one." Impa raised herself and stood in front of the now shaking young girl. She gently tucked a loose lock of hair back behind her pointed ear, and placed a calming hand on Zelda's forehead. It was an old technique of the Sheikah to placate the ill or spiritually distressed, drawing the injurious thoughts from the mind and giving common sense a chance to triumph.  
  
"Now, " the older woman said in a quietly soothing tone, "You know that I serve the Royal Family, but my first allegiance is to you, dear child. If I had known of this plan, I would have told you, even if I was bade against it. Secondly, I do not approve of the King's machinations unknown to you...but I do feel...that perhaps it is the only way. I know you see this in your mind's eye, Zelda, though your heart grieves."  
  
Eyes closed, Zelda gave a barely perceptible nod.  
  
"But that does not necessarily mean we relinquish hope now, does it?" Zelda's eyes opened slowly, and raised them to meet those of her wizened bodyguard. Impa nodded once, slowly, returning the gaze with equal measure. Zelda leaned forward and was received into the arms of her surrogate mother. Tightly pressed against Impa's hardened muscles, the princess of the Realm allowed herself a small thrill of hope. Perhaps all was not yet lost. 


	2. The Heir of Terabith

A/N: Goodness gracious, most bodacious! My first review. And it wasn't even a flame! Thank you, Dragon Scales! The honour is yours, and I now owe you the debt of my life, my soul and my body, till I am eaten away by maggots. Or maybe, I'll just give you an Author's Note, as I can already see the logistical problems which would arise with the owning of dead, maggot- infested body. Though the soul would be handy to have around. Can never have enough souls, kids! Always smart to keep one handy in case one has to be sold to the devil. What am I going one about? Well, the first to answer that is given a degree in Abstract Philosophy and a virtual cookie. Away, my beloved audience! The story awaits thee!  
  
The trumpet fanfare echoed magnificently in the cathedral ceilings of the palace dancing hall. All heads swiveled towards the huge oak doors at one end of the chamber. A hush fell over the assembled crowd of dignitaries and officials as the last resonances of the musical announcement died away. The delicate glass chandeliers suspended well overhead bathed the guests in the soft, suffused glow of a thousand candles.  
  
The light revealed the bored, faintly pompous expression on the face of a young man dressed in heavy, exotic robes standing next to a couple who were evidently his parents, both wearing extremely stern, patrician expressions. The family was standing a little ways parted from the main body, near the doors to which every face was currently turned.  
  
With an echoing creak, and the swivel of large hinges turning in their pins, the doors swung open. Two footmen dressed in the livery of the Hyrule court rushed out and held the doors ajar.  
  
The heralds again took up their call as two figures, arm in arm, appeared in the doorway. A third footman announced in a carrying voice to the assemblage – "His Majesty, the King of Hyrule, and Her Highness, the Princess Zelda."  
  
The two royals began to move slowly out into the brilliant light of the vaulted hall. All guests bowed or curtseyed in varying degrees of reverence, dependant on their own statuses compared to the Royal Family. The young princeling and the Monarchs of Terabith barely inclined their heads, the looks of vague disdain never erring.  
  
Zelda sighed inwardly as soon as she caught sight of them lingering on the edge of the guests, immediately guessing their identities. She made a half- hearted attempt to walk on past, but her father simply held her arm tightly - to prevent escape, no doubt - and firmly steered her in their direction.  
  
Coming to a stop in front of the three foreigners, Zelda got her first good look at the man...well, boy...with whom her father was proposing she spend the rest of her natural life.  
  
Her first impression was one of slight sickliness; his skin was sallow and milky, and it pulled tightly across his cheekbones. This surprised her somewhat, as the Terabithians were generally a dark-skinned people, owing to their fiercely hot climate and agricultural lifestyles. This young heir appeared to be the exception to the rule, though Zelda would be surprised if he had had hardly an excuse to step out of doors in his entire life.  
  
It was not the wan, ashen colour of his face which irked Zelda the most, however. It was the snooty expression as this adolescent appraised her entire length, as though she were a horse he was intending to buy, and wished to check for defects. Zelda wondered flippantly if he would call for a stool and inspect her teeth, or would encourage her to do a quick trot around the length of the hall.  
  
"Lord Thestrop, Lady Armidale. We welcome you, as honoured guests of Hyrule." The King slipped into an unusually deep bow, which Zelda was forced to mirror with an equally respectful curtsey. His countenance was uncommonly grave. She reflected how heavily the success of this agreement must weigh on her father.  
  
However, she quickly remembered how he intended to achieve that aim, and scowled involuntarily. She was certainly not prepared to forgive him yet.  
  
The two older nobles noted her frown, presuming it was intended for them. The Lady huffed indignantly, while the Lord regarded the King with disapproval and something akin to suspicion.  
  
The King hurriedly waved to the royal attendants to be at ease, a signal for the rest of the guests to resume their laughter and conversation. The strains of several Hyrulian pipers began drifting pleasantly through the room.  
  
"May I present my daughter, Zelda?" The King gestured tactfully to the Terabithians, while giving the princess a pointed look in which she was clearly told to behave.  
  
He continued on, a slight firmness in his tone. "She has been most eager to meet you. Indeed, she is most delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Master Ferdgin." Zelda curved her reluctant mouth into a smile, and dipped into another curtsey. "Delighted, sirs and madam."  
  
The Lord Prince quickly looked her over, before sniffing dismissively and turning his attention back to the King. Zelda's blood boiled at this lack of deference, yet she maintained a polite exterior. Technically, she outranked every one of the arrogant nobles, a fact she longed to point out in their presence.  
  
However, her deep-rooted, habitual respect for her father's political position restrained her, though the desire to throttle every one of them was steadily growing overpowering.  
  
"And she has been informed of the arrangement, I presume?" The Lord's tone was witheringly contemptuous, as though she were no more than a distant third party in the proceedings.  
  
Zelda noted with pleasure the slight tensing of a muscle in her father's cheek, a sure sign he was irritated as well by this pompous idiot. The King betrayed no displeasure to the Terabithians however, and responded in a perfectly even voice. "She has. The Princess is willing to accept these terms."  
  
The Lady laid a gloved hand on her husband's arm. "Perhaps we should let the children talk amongst themselves for a while." she whispered rather loudly into his ear.  
  
The princeling broke off into sniggering laughter, and Zelda very forcibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes.  
  
The Lord threw Zelda a censorious glance, and turned back to his wife. "Would that be entirely proper? Without accompaniment?" The King noted his daughter's growing annoyance, which her mouth was parting to express, and quickly took the situation into his own hands.  
  
"Thestrop, Armidale, will you not join me in a sampling of your excellent ales? I have heard many fine tales of your southern shire's brew..." The King steered the Lord and Lady quickly away towards the table of food and drink. That left Zelda to deal with the young Master Ferdgin.  
  
Biting back on yet another groan, Zelda decided it was time to make the best of a bad situation. Turning to the now sneering princeling, she swallowed and inwardly attempted to fortify her patience.  
  
"Tell me, Master Ferdgin, are you fond of dancing?" Zelda asked politely, careful to keep her tone respectful. The young man turned to her with faint surprise, as though he were shocked she knew how to speak when not instructed. Zelda gestured half-heartedly to the small group of younger nobles twirling and laughing in front of the pipers, while other guests looked on.  
  
"Not particularly." he answered, now sounding thoroughly bored. Zelda was not amazed to discover he had a thin, reedy voice, barely into his manhood. He must be no more than fifteen, she thought dismally.  
  
"Well, I'm not overly taken with it myself." She managed a laugh which sounded remarkably tinny to her ears. Enacting no response aside from a scornful silence, she cleared her throat and valiantly tried again.  
  
"I trust your journey here was at least agreeable?" The youth threw her a withering glare. "It was hot, dusty, long and boring. Father would not allow me to ride ahead with the advance guard, so I had to sit in a litter with my mother." Zelda frowned.  
  
"Surely, you could not have expected to ride with the guard? Why, you are far too young." In hindsight, she realised these were perhaps not the wisest words to ever escape her lips – a thought confirmed by the sight of the adolescent now puffing himself up with wounded pride. Zelda hastily intervened before he called for his parents – or worse, burst into tears - and left the castle in a huff.  
  
"I am sure, however, that your undoubtedly admirable horsemanship would render you as adequate as any of your father's soldiers." This seemed to console him, at least momentarily, and Zelda expelled a breath she wasn't aware she had withheld.  
  
"Well," he began, vanity stroked, "Mother did say it was ridiculous, as I was always better than my classmates with the sword. Mother says it's in my noble blood. She said she would rather noble blood protecting her than some nasty commoner blood."  
  
Zelda simply nodded in what she fervently hoped was an appreciative manner, as an appropriate response that did not involve insults to such ridiculous snobbery presently eluded her.  
  
The princeling stared her down in what seemed to be as close to a grudging appreciation as he could manage. "I suppose your blood's quite noble. Perhaps it won't so bad, having to marry you." The Princess murmured her concurrence and bowed her head so he wouldn't catch her grimace. Despite a deeply painful mental anguish at the thought of having to forbear this insufferable brat for the rest of her life, she rearranged her face into what was hopefully a bright expression and lifted her head.  
  
"Well, all this talk of blood is so off-putting, do you not think? I propose we rejoin our parents and find ourselves refreshments."  
  
The heir to Terabith lifted his nose in an unbearably knowing expression, as he brushed past. "Well, you are just a girl, you know. I wouldn't expect you to have the constitution to speak of things that are a man's duty. I suspect we shall find little to talk about with each other, as I am only interested in the business of men that females are not to know of."  
  
Zelda admirably curbed the urge to soundly thrash the impudent child about the ears, and instead gestured to the awaiting party. She did not trust herself to speak.  
  
Many hours later, Zelda had returned to her chambers and was relaxing in the confines of a warm bath. She certainly deserved it. The entire occasion had been tortuous at its very best. She had been pulled aside twice by the Lady Armidale, who had warned her through pinched lips that she was not to address 'crude subject matter' when conversing with her precious son, which apparently included any hint of their awaiting nuptials.  
  
How her son informing her that, due to their unfortunately differing sexes, they would never speak to each other for the course of their marriage constituted 'crude subject matter' was a riddle she was unwilling to tackle in her presently exhausted state.  
  
The Lord Thestrop had thankfully not spoken with her again after their first joyful encounter, but simply held her several times on the receiving end of his frowning, disapproving stares.  
  
As for the Master Ferdgin himself, he had been content to ignore Zelda for the rest of the evening (something which hardly broke her heart) and instead loudly complain to his parents about the various shortcomings of Hyrule he had noted so far.  
  
Nothing was exempt, from the food, to the wine, to the manner of ladies' dress - far too conservative in his wise opinion – to how 'boring' the dances were, and how unequalled any prospective partners of the room were to his own skill, despite his earlier protests that he did not enjoy the pastime.  
  
Zelda's jaw ground involuntarily whenever the idea of wedding the heir to Terabith sprung to mind. Sinking lower into the bath, she tried to put the whole sorry affair from her mind. Tomorrow, she would set about negotiating (pleading...begging...) with her father to excuse her obligation from this marriage. Until then, Zelda decided, it would be best to think on other things.  
  
The washroom was awfully warm. Steam drifted steadily upwards from the bath and two large urns standing nearby, should the Princess require more hot water. Zelda closed her eyes and relaxed, focusing simply on the luxurious feel of warm water submersing her skin. Baths were a luxury reserved for nobility; even Zelda rarely bathed in this manner. They were a treat she reserved for special occasions...or in tonight's case, to reward herself for holding her tongue.  
  
The combination of the wine she had consumed earlier and the heady temperature in the little chamber was making Zelda feel distinctly drowsy. Closing her eyes, she dropped into a half-doze. Her mind wandered, away from the burdensome cares and worries and duties of her station, to happier days.  
  
The main courtyard of the castle swum lazily into view, and she saw herself, a little girl, spying on a fearsome Gerudo stranger paying obeisance to her father. She remembered how startled she had been to feel the roughly callused hand on her shoulder, before she turned and looked for the first time into the dark blue eyes which would haunt her sleep for the next seven years.  
  
She could still recall the quiet intensity of his expression, the slightly gaunt hollowness about his wild face. Her very first thought was of a wood nymph, which had taken human form and was here to revenge themselves for some crushing of a plant under her horse's hoof.  
  
But he had not been a creature of the spirit world, though the Kokiri were perhaps the closest to forest creatures of all Hyruliens. He was here because he shared her recent propensity to troubling dreams, and had been told by the Great Guardian, the Deku Tree, that fate called him to fulfill the prophecy of the Triforce...alongside Zelda.  
  
Her mind flew, dreamlike, through the despair and terror of the seven years which followed, and the powerful artifact which now bound them both eternally to Ganondorf. Which even now, ran through her veins.  
  
Opening her eyes, Zelda sat up in the tub. Unconsciously, she lifted her right hand, and traced the faint outline of three triangles which still lay there. How odd. It had been years since she had thought on that time, so many years ago – a memory she was mostly quite willing to forget. She wondered what had drawn her there now. 


End file.
